From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
I shouldn't laugh, but I know I'm a failure in your eyes
From a quick dip in some underwater gardens with the love of his life, to here... it's the mood-shift equivalent of a wet slap to the face, to put it bluntly. Ronin had only ever intended to fly over the Hollowed Grounds on his way out of the Greatwood, his shape draconic and his demeanour not dissimilar, but the sight of so many new parts of the Grounds amid the familiar ruin and farmland... call it the pull of old trauma, but he finds himself landing soon enough - and in human shape, too.
Walking the Inner Quarter like a man in a dream, Ronin swears he recognises a few streets. Was that a lane he'd run through on his first LongNight, with a babe in arms and blood all over his clothes? Is that the alleyway he and Remi had once strolled down after a visit to the Temple? Letting out a sigh that feels deeper than the breath it rode out on, it wouldn't be amiss to say that Ronin isn't looking where he's going.
In fact, his eyes are nowhere near on the path in front of him as he furrows his brow and strains to recognise a distant voice.
Wandering the streets without an aim happened to be one of her specialties.
Today, this act was somewhat special: the sun was still in the sky, and the sound of the Quarter was alive around her. She wasn't entirely sure why she'd woken up early enough to not miss out on the daylight, but she had set out once she'd tucked away enough of her stash to not be so bothered by the light and noise, and the rest was hidden away in her flask, easily accessible on her hip. There was even the faintest glimmer of having a good day wreathed about her, but she dared not touch the idea too heavily, or it might scatter away from her like pooled smoke when met by a breeze.
There had been a brief time when she'd returned home after her near-immediately failed endeavors to become a bold adventurer of the new world that she'd felt this way on a regular basis. There was something comforting about these streets, even though they were no longer the same as they were when she was younger. There was something comforting, too, about how much they had changed. If the Quarter could grow and evolve into a greater form, perhaps, too, could she.
If that feeling could just last through the night...
As if summoned by the audacity of feeling something like at peace, an unnoticed pothole caught her up, and sent her stumbling forward a few paces, teetering for balance, and nearly making her careen into a stranger with dark hair, and the sort of dour expression that she could resonate with. She, too, had no fucks left to give, though this one seemed to be a lot more capable of backing up the poor attitude that often came with such an expression than she was.
The glimmer of happiness that had embraced her seconds before vanished in a flurry of self pity, replaced by irritation at the pothole, adorned with the shine of her frustration at having hoped it would linger long, in the first place.
"Why?!" she barked to the pothole with aggressively raised arms. She then glanced over at the tall fellow she'd nearly blasted into, while removing strands of dirty hair from her line of vision. Inebriated as she was, if her ankle had minded the stumble, she didn't feel it.
"Sorry, the damn road is broken," explained the tipsy, dusty woman, with a vague gesture at the divot. Normally, she might not have bothered apologizing, and stumbled on her way, but something seemed... different about this one. Her muddled brain slowly moved it's liquor soaked gears as she studied him, trying to discern what about the fellow was so peculiar, before settling itself on, probably just another rich asshole, as the best solution.
At least she wasn't drunk and careless enough yet to say that part out loud. Rich assholes sometimes had work for her to do.
I shouldn't laugh, but I know I'm a failure in your eyes
Rich in experience certainly, but it's been a hot minute since Ronin was wealthy in the traditional sense of the word. Still, it's that very experience that turns him into a sort of brick wall as the stranger before him trips, and rather than side-stepping or, worst case scenario, being shoved, he's all but immovable against the sudden body almost colliding with his own. Hells, he even has the instinct to reach out and try to steady her balance.
"No need to apologise - I should have been paying more attention anyway," he says, his tone not dissimilar from a man coming out of a dream. Blinking a couple of times as if to refocus on the now rather than the past, his gaze moves past the stranger to the pothole. "Oh, I bet it's got plenty of reasons why. Family to feed, job to do, all that jazz." With a lopsided smile, he glances down at her ankle.
